Touching and Touched
by Tirajm
Summary: Two lonely intellectuals form a bond of mutual respect, and something more. Spock/Vaarsuvius.
1. Chapter 1: First Contact

_First officer's log, Stardate: unknown_  
_The encounter with the quantum barrier seems to have led to an unfortunate transporter accident; I have been stranded alone on an unidentified planet. Nearly all of the equipment seems to be in a state of malfunction as well. I have been forced to resort to primitive handwritten records. I have made several attempts to contact the Enterprise, but all have failed. Based on both the few sensor readings I have been able to take and the little information available on the exact nature of quantum barriers, I have begun to theorize that I have been transported to another dimension._

---

A rustle in the bushes caused the Vulcan to look up from the page he was writing on. He could here faint arguing voices, slowly growing louder as they got closer.

"Look, Roy, I know what you're thinking but c'mon! It's practically self-sustaining, and only mildly inhumane!"

"Bah! Without addressing the myriad moral issues that would, of course, be mere encouragement to your depraved soul, the idea itself is highly impractical. From whence would one obtain so many rutabagas in the first place?"

"Gods, will the two of you just shut up for a moment? Next time I'm trying to go on a stealth mission, I think I'll take the singing bard and the clanking dwarf."

"How is it my fault Ears can't -" Belkar broke off suddenly, sniffing the air a bit. "There's someone dead ahead. Elf, I think... no, maybe half-elf? Probably some sort of weird subrace or something." He began to reach for his daggers almost without thought, still sniffing a bit.

"You can stow the daggers, Belkar. I'm just going to go make a Diplomacy check or two, and see if we can get some better directions. The two of you stay here - gods know I need all the circumstance bonuses I can get."

The young man was only a few yards away, and Roy located him without trouble. Belkar had definitely gotten the elf part right, if the ears were any proof, but Roy couldn't think of a particular subrace with sharply angled eyebrows or unnaturally short, straight hair. The stranger's face was particularly unreadable; Roy hoped he could get a twenty.

"Hello, I'm an adventurer, and I was hoping you could give my party and me a bit of a hand. We, well, we happen to be a bit lost, and I was hoping maybe you could give us some directions to the nearest village?"

"An unfortunate coincidence. I happen to be facing the same difficulty as you are. Perhaps we could offer each other mutual aid?"

"So you're lost, too. Well, you might as well tag along. The forest around here's a bit dangerous for a single person." Roy held out a hand. "Name's Roy Greenhilt, human fighter. You are?"

"First Officer Spock of the Starship Enterprise. I do not suppose you can give me the name of this planet?"

Roy groaned audibly. And they had said it wasn't going to get too sci-fi!

---

"I think it's taking him too long."

"That is because you suffer from severe mental deficiencies including an attention span comparable to that of a housefly. It has been a mere one hundred and fifty-two seconds since Sir Greenhilt left us."

"How long does it take to give someone a few directions? Assuming it's not you, of course."

"Are you suggesting it would preferable to reconvene with the others having obtained incorrect data that would only serve to lead us more astray? I myself would think it better to be able to report back to Miss Starshine and the others with correct instructions. Besides, it is not as if Sir Greenhilt is likely to encounter any danger; you yourself said that it was another elf you detected, not a goblin or an orc."

"Yeah, but I didn't say what kind of elf. Not all of them are fluffy-unicorns-and-sunshine elves."

"You do have a point there. Some of my less savory kin are renowned for being nearly as violent and unpredictable as you are."

"See what I mean? I'm gonna go check it out." The halfling took off suddenly, with the startled elf giving chase, complaining all the while.

---

"So the majority of your planet is populated by humans as well? Fascinating. It appears as if I have indeed entered another dimension, then."

"Great. Well, we'll try and find you a high-level wizard who can spare you a Plane Shift - ours had to go and ban Conjuration."

"Perhaps you could explain in more detail this 'magic' practiced on your planet."

"You'd want to ask V about that -" Roy heard both Belkar's feet and Vaarsuvius' complaints just before it was too late, and managed to grab the tail of the halfling's cloak. "Belkar! Dammit, do you ever listen to anything I say?"

"What the hell took you so long, Greenhilt? Get lost asking for directions?" Belkar shot back.

"If you would cease exercising your extremely stale wit, perhaps you would be able to ascertain that Sir Greenhilt is not in any sort of danger, and once again, your superfluous conclusions have been summarily proven false, as I had expected they... would." Vaarsuvius, oddly enough, seemed to have lost interest in the spiel. Roy took it as a golden opportunity to get a word in edgewise.

"Spock, this is part of the rest of my party, Belkar and Vaarsuvius. Belkar and Vaarsuvius, Spock. He's some sort of space elf from another dimension or something."

"A simplified explanation, but basically correct. Apparently your world operates on some sort of magical system, which can possibly be employed to return me to my own?"

"Another simplified explanation, once again the product of Sir Greenhilt, I might imagine. In fact, the magic that governs our world is a great and complex thing, not one which can be summarized by a mere spectator into the realm of the impossible." Vaarsuvius paused, looking suspicious. "Yet, truly, as an interloper into our very dimension, do you truly believe in it? If such a thing does not in your world, why would you accept it in another?"

"I have experienced several strange things in my own time. If what you say can be verified by scientific methods, I see no logical reason to doubt its truth."

"Well, now that we've agreed on that... Let's see if we can reconvene with the rest of the gang."


	2. Chapter 2: Dancing Lights

_First Officer's Log, Stardate: still unknown_

_I have decided to make an alliance with the adventuring party known as the Order of the Stick. They seem to be a fairly noble group, but I have serious concerns as to their efficiency. Nearly every member, including their leader, exhibits highly illogical behavior, and they quarrel almost constantly.  
_

_The world in which I have found refuge is highly unusual in its similarities to Earth. Several of its inhabitants refer to themselves as humans. However, there are also a large number of other sapient beings that I have never heard of before. There is also a strange sort of system to this world - there is constant talk of 'levels' and 'experience,' as if it was some mathematical force governing the entire universe. It is possibly related to the magic they claim to practice, which I plan to seek further data on. I have been offered instruction on this topic by the party's wizard, an 'elf' (query meaning of this term to captain) known as Vaarsuvius, who seems to be the most sensible of the six, and appears to belong to a species remarkably similar to my own. (Aside to the Captain, who, I am sure, will read this report - please do not make any personal remarks in your log on this topic. The ones concerning Lt. Uhura and myself are also unnecessary.)__  
_

--- 

"So you're from space? That is SO cool. What's it like in space? Do you wear a helmet and eat funny ice cream all the time? Is your planet one of the ice ones, or one of the fire ones?"

Spock had spent all day resisting the urge to sigh. The blonde human seemed to be enthralled with him; he certainly seemed curious. "As I have explained before, the ships in which we travel are entirely enclosed, so I may simply wear my uniform, and a replicator can provide food of any variety. As for my planet it is - or rather, it was - of varied climates, similar to Earth itself." He paused. He had no desire to discuss the loss of his home with anyone, much less the bard, but he was sure he was going to ask. The question was forming on his lips before Vaarsuvius interrupted.

"I believe it has reached the first burgeoning hours of twilight," said the elf, perhaps rather louder than was necessary. "It would be advisable to stop here for now, Sir Greenhilt."

"Great," replied a thankful Roy. It'd been a long day of walking, and Elan was rubbing on his last nerve, too. "Hey V, weren't you going to go over some magic with Spock or something?"

"Yes, I had planned on that. I believe it would be conductive to attempt this exercise some distance from the remainder of the party, based on the quantity of noise that usually ensues from any such activity. This way, Mr. Spock, if it pleases you."

"Certainly." 

The elf led them to a small clearing, and Spock took a seat on a convenient stump. Vaarsuvius was slightly amused to notice that he had pulled out his pencil and notebook again. 

"So, it is your desire to learn to master the most mighty and complex of forces, that of magic, which governs over much of this world?"

"It would seem logical, yes."

"Very well, then. It is a difficult art, and not one which should be taken lightly. However, I shall make an endeavor to convey as much of my not inconsiderable knowledge as best I can, a lengthy task though it may be."

Vaarsuvius proceeded to do exactly that. It was indeed a lengthy task - two hours later, the elf was finally winding down, after having touched on topics stemming from basic magical theory to complex hypotheses of Vaarsuvius' own. And Spock had written it all down. Vaarsuvius was not so much amused as impressed. Still there was something else the elf wanted to ask about. 

"Please forgive my intrusion into what I'm sure are extremely private matters, but I must ask you. Earlier I believed you described your planet using the past tense. Is there a particular reason behind this?"

"Yes," he replied, as calmly as before. "It was destroyed by a madman seeking revenge."

"Then I am extremely sorry for you. I as well nearly lost my family recently. It was through some... extremely questionable application of magic that they were saved."

"Then you were luckier than I was."

There was a pause. "Do you wish to continue the instruction tomorrow?"

"Yes. I believe that would be the logical course of action."

---

Over the next few days, a pattern started to develop. Every evening, the two would walk off alone for Vaarsuvius' magic instructions. The elf was enthusiastic about the subject, and the Vulcan a fast learner. At last, the subject of practical lessons came up.  
"I believe that it would be an advisable course of action for you to attempt actual spellcasting. It would at least act as a barometer for how far you have come in your knowledge."

"I had thought it took several years, even decades to master?"

"If one is a beginner, certainly. But one of the logical departures which this universe too often forces upon us, it is far easier for someone with past experience of any nature to master the control of this delicate art. Try a Dancing Lights spell." Vaarsuvius cast the spell easily, Spock watching carefully. The four pink lights danced in the fading sunset.

His own attempts were less successful; the words were easy enough, but the hand motions were fairly complicated. Vaarsuvius watched with a dissatisfied expression.

"Like this," said the elf firmly, grabbing the other's wrist, causing him to grow unusually still. Vaarsuvius ignored his reaction, moving his hand in the correct motions. The next attempt was more successful; four blinking blue lights joined the pink ones.

"Fascinating," he murmured, staring transfixedly at the lights. "It produces a most... unexpected sensation." 

"You find it distasteful?"

"On the contrary, it is actually quite pleasurable."

There was a pause in the conversation. Vaarsuvius suddenly realized they were standing extremely close together. The lights seemed to reflect this, as they grew closer, shining a pale purple light on the pair. Vaarsuvius dismissed the spell with an emphatic wave. "An extremely successful lesson. I would advise you to study what I have already taught you about the different schools of magic, and consider a possible specialization."

"I shall make an effort to do so."

The elf left the clearing they had been using, wearing an oddly bemused look. Spock remained for a second as if considering something; then he too returned to the camp, his own spell blinking out as he left the range.


	3. Chapter 3: Explosive Recollections

_First Officer's Log, Stardate: still unknown, est. 2259.20_

_I have spent close to a week in this universe, and I am still learning more about it. It appears to be a very violent place; random attacks from marauding beasts are not rare, and we have very recently uncovered the ruins of what appears to be burial grounds of antiquity, riddled with magically animated skeletons. Ms. Starshine, a member of the party, has insisted that we investigate them thoroughly, expressing excitement about the contents of these ruins. I quite agree with her sentiments, as they look to promise the most interesting archaeological evidence that will be useful in the analysis of this planet's inhabitants._

_I have also increased my knowledge of magic; Vaarsuvius, who is acting as my instructor, says that I, since I gain experience at the same rate as the far more advanced Order, will soon be ready to learn second level spells. I have chosen to specialize in Conjuration, a most useful school which Vaarsuvius has rather illogically neglected. While it is highly unlikely that I shall advance to the point of performing the necessary spell to return myself home, I have found that simple magic is quite useful in attempting to repair some of my equipment. Hopefully, I shall be able to return to my duties upon the Enterprise before too long._

---

It had been a long day for the Order. Haley had recognized the ruins of an Ancient Society Inordinately Fond of Gold immediately, and insisted that they raid the whole of it. Unfortunately, her Disable Device checks had not gone quite so well as her Knowledge (Places that might have treasure) check had, and the Order had fought off more hordes of undead than Roy really felt was necessary. He had drawn the line when Haley wanted to head farther into the third structure. Their casters were low on spells, and, as he explained to her, if the gold was still there after all those centuries, it could probably wait until tomorrow. Currently, they were attempting to recover from the last battle; Haley was picking up gold and salvaging as many arrows as possible, while Durkon tended to a nasty cut Elan had gotten, and Roy tried to total up the experience they had gotten, shared out over seven people instead of six for once. The rest were still inside the tomb, though gods only knew what they were up to.

For once, Belkar and Vaarsuvius were engaging in the same activity, cleaning up from the last battle. Their methods could not have been more different, however; while the elf was brushing every minute speck of skeleton dust possible off, Belkar spat on his knives, and wiped the remains of a few mummies on his own cloak.

"So," the halfling said suddenly, bored enough to talk to Vaarsuvius, "how've your little 'magic lessons' been going?"

Vaarsuvius was sharp enough to hear the quotes, but ignored them. "Very well, actually. Mr. Spock has proven to be quite adept with the spells he has mastered so far, though he could perhaps stand to practice his summoning more often. It is a fault for which I fear I may be the cause, since I am unable to provide much in the way of actual experience, merely what few notes I have taken – "

"Good gods, elf, do you think I actually care?" A nasty smile spread across Belkar's face. "Y'know, you and your little boyfriend have gotten awfully close. It's disgusting, frankly. I mean, all things considered…"

Blackwing paused his preening on Vaarsuvius' shoulder, suddenly attending to the conversation. "Don't let him get you," he hissed into his master's ear. "Remember the marketplace?" But it was too late – Vaarsuvius had already been sucked into the conversation.

"What things is your puny intellect considering? Surely there cannot be any great number of them."

"Well, let's see… that imaginary pet you've been carrying around for the last few weeks? The fact that, according to Beardy McBeerstein, you've been off your rocker since Roy died? Your recent jaunt to the dark side – how did that end, anyways? Xykon too much for your superior, stuck-up ass? Or maybe… Maybe you should mention the fact that you're _married_?"

"No, no, no…" whispered the raven but it was too late. A look of rage washed over the elf's features.

"How dare you," snarled Vaarsuvius. "Do you intend to pass judgment on me, you amoral cretin?"

Belkar smirked, too pleased with himself to notice that the elf had raised a hand threateningly. "I dunno, Ears, who do you think has been more evil around here lately? I'm not the one who's been alternating between flying around in all black and cheating on my mate."

The hand began to move sharply, glowing as Vaarsuvius formed the arcane pattern of a potent spell. "You have gone too far! Perhaps from now on you will know better than to insult those who could crush you, you miserable little monster! _Chain Li-_"

A surprisingly strong hand grasped the elf's arm before the spell could be completed. "That is quite enough. Such violence between members of the same group is completely unacceptable." Vaarsuvius spun around, sharp words dancing on the elf's lips, which died at the sight of Spock's perfectly composed expression. Belkar, cackling evilly, ran off; the halfling knew a good diversion when he saw one.

There was a pause, measured stare meeting angry glare. Vaarsuvius, feeling the anger starting to leave, jerked free, shaking the hand to relieve the slight sting of the failed spell.

"Perhaps it was illogical of me to expect proper behavior from Mr. Bitterleaf, as he has long shown himself to be unwilling to restrain himself at all, but I had supposed you were above such a display," Spock remarked drily.

"He insulted me," muttered Vaarsuvius, not looking at the Vulcan. "His behavior was uncalled for – a violation – it was not within his rights to say the things he did – I am nothing like him…" The words trailed away.

Spock did not seem deterred in the least; to the contrary, Vaarsuvius recognized the expression that suggested an inimitably long lecture. It was one the elf used rather often. "What he said was irrelevant. You should not allow your emotions to master you. If one does not properly control oneself, it can result in some extremely… ill-advised actions. It can be… tempting … to give into rage but if you harm a member of your party, your crew…" The Vulcan paused, momentarily lost in thought, but Vaarsuvius was not attending.

_The rage, the anger, the hate, and then, the sweet release of the spell, the rush of a truly epic spell… the death_, _the destruction, the bits of body everywhere, it had all felt so good, so _right_. The horror on their faces… the dragon was shocked… and Kyrie, and the children, they were scared, they were disgusted, they were gone…_ Vaarsuvius felt as if the already cramped tomb was closing in, suffocating them, while words, too many words clustered around them. Disregarding the lecture the elf turned and ran, dashing not towards the entrance but farther into the tomb, into the cool darkness where nobody was watching you. Blackwing fluttered off in surprise. "Vaarsuvius!" he cawed. "Get back here, we haven't gone that way yet!" There was no response. With a sigh, the bird settled on the shoulder of the Vulcan. "Sorry about that. Little temperamental, huh?" he commented.

"Indeed," Spock replied, not quite attending. He did not know how to respond; as the doctor had pointed out several times, he had very little experience in interpersonal relationships. Nyota had… but of course, that was out of the question. He stood there for a minute, relishing the silence.

It did not last long. From farther into the tomb, there was a quiet thud, followed by a grinding noise, and what was probably an expletive in Elvish. Spock did not pause for a moment, dashing after the noise. This time Blackwing was more aware and avoided being dumped. The bird sighed again. It looked like it was going to be one of _those_ days.


	4. Chapter 4: Not Alone in the Dark

_First Officer's Log, Supplemental_

_There has been an altercation between Vaarsuvius and Mr. Bitterleaf, which I intercepted before anyone was hurt. Vaarsuvius has disappeared further into the ruins, which are likely to be heavily trapped and infested with the undead. I have decided to investigate, after hearing what seems to be a disturbance up ahead. Hopefully, I shall be able to offer assistance before the situation becomes too dangerous._

---

Spock followed Vaarsuvius' path further into the tomb, a Dancing Lights spell the only illumination. He finally found the elf in another burial chamber, surrounded by its undead denizens. There were dozens of cuts on the elf's face from their spears. Despite the ankle pinned by a misplaced rock, scattered bones indicated that Vaarsuvius had fought back quite well, but a lucky grapple attempt by a skeleton had put a stop to that. Spock drew his phaser and fired, neatly disintegrating the skeleton and drawing the attention of the rest of the horde.

He tried to fire again, but there was no response. Between the dimensional travel and week of neglect, much of the charge seemed to have drained. He dropped the useless device, calculations of the odds dashing through his mind unbidden. A spell would be his best option, but he only had a few remaining. If he misfired even once.…

"Fireball!" The whole swarm was engulfed by flames, and light flooded the cavern. Spock blinked a bit. Vaarsuvius was sitting up, looking cross and tired. Blackwing fluttered over.

"Impressive," Spock remarked, making his way across the slightly smoldering remains. "I am sorry if I startled you, Vaarsuvius. Perhaps it was not logical for me to come myself. You are far more experienced than I."

"Not at all. You provided an excellent distraction. I was not able to use some of my more powerful spells with them so close." There was a slightly pregnant pause. Blackwing nudged Vaarsuvius with his beak. "I apologize for my behavior early," Vaarsuvius said at last, sounding more cross than apologetic. "It was idiotic of me."

"Perhaps not the best choice, no," he remarked, pushing the rock aside and kneeling down to examine the elf. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"No." Another pause, another nudge from Blackwing. "You were correct in what you said. I cannot allow myself to lose control. I will eventually do something extremely regrettable." Vaarsuvius looked down, seeming almost ashamed. "No – I have already done something I regret."

"I have been told I am not particularly skilled as a confidant, but if you do wish to tell me…"

A shake of the head. "I would prefer not to mention it."

"Very well then. You are sure you are unharmed?" He moved his hand delicately across the elf's face, feeling for any wounds. It paused momentarily at Vaarsuvius' ear. The elf trembled a bit. "They are surprisingly different in shape."

"Yes…" The usual verbosity was gone, as delicate hand held delicate ear. Their faces were very close together, for a moment that seemed to last an eternity.

And then, someone leaned a little closer…

The kiss lasted only a second or so, until both of them moved back, as if they were startled that the other reciprocated. Blackwing crowed quietly. An attitude of abject embarrassment seemed to suddenly permeate the scene.

Vaarsuvius broke the silence this time, thankful the dim light hid what might have been a blush. "I apologize for having taken any liberties – I was not thinking – my ears are… unusually sensitive."

"I do not believe you need to apologize. I would certainly not characterize your response as unpleasant." He changed the subject quickly. "Your ankle appears to be injured. Do you need any assistance? I could carry you if you cannot support your weight."

"It does not work like that," snapped Vaarsuvius. "As long as my hitpoints remain, I am perfectly capable of walk – urgh." The elf staggered painfully. "Perhaps a little support would not be amiss."

Arm and arm, they headed for the mouth of the tomb.


	5. Chapter 5: Letting Things Stoo

_First Officer's Log, Stardate est. 2259.24  
We have finally arrived upon a proper settlement, but it does not seem that there is anyone capable of performing the necessary procedure to return me to the Enterprise. Apparently, such people are rarer than had been previously estimated. There are some positive aspects to this fact, as it means I will have further opportunities to learn more about the dimension which I currently inhabit. I have also attempted to repair my communicator, but there is no sign of whether or not it is actually functional, as I find it unlikely that I am within range of any Federation ships. Despite my hopes that I shall be able to return before too much time has elapsed, it seems logical to take steps to better adapt myself to life in this universe._

Haley had been horrified when she saw what had happened to Vaarsuvius, and when Roy wanted to move on the next morning, she hardly objected at all. Spock had been surprised to receive a portion of the gold they had obtained. Presumably, it had come from Vaarsuvius' share; when he asked, the elf had simply shrugged, saying that he had greater need for it.

The truth of this statement was beginning to become obvious. Obtaining the necessary spell required a suitable caster, and there were simply none to be found, despite Elan's complaints about dramatic contrivances. It was beginning to seem that the situation would be more permanent than he had hoped. And unless he was willing to violate Starfleet protocol, and attract more attention than he cared to, he would have to blend in a little better.

Haley was the one assigned to helping him navigate the bazaar. "Sorry we're kind of at low point right now, cash-wise. I mean, you can get the necessities, but we probably won't have enough for any magical items or something. We'd have to dip into the team funds…" She broke off, realizing the implications of her remark.

The first thing she made him get was clothes. He would not give up his uniform ("If it will suffice for traveling, which I have already observed that it does, it does not seem necessary to purchase entirely new garb, especially if there is a deficiency in the funds"), but the cloak he did buy served to cover most of it. It was unwieldy, but there was little choice in the matter. He had guessed they would need supplies next, but instead, Haley led him to a shady corner away from much of the bustle.

"Alright," she said once she was sure they were alone, her tone suddenly fiercer, "what's up with you and V?"

"I fear I must ask that you rephrase your question more precisely. There are numerous actions we have engaged in since our first encounter, but I could probably provide a reasonably succinct recounting of them if that is your meaning."

Haley sighed, but she knew she should be used to it. They were so much alike; and that, of course, was the problem. "Your relationship. Where are you two at with that?" She cut him off before he could request greater precision again. "Are the two of you hooking up or not?"

"We are most certainly not 'hooking up,' in the cruder meaning of that phrase. Generally, Vaarsuvius acts as an instructor, though if it is not presumptuous of me to say so I believe we are approaching colleagues instead."

Haley gave him a look of utmost skepticism. "Do you honestly think my Sense Motive check is that low? The two of you were down in that tomb together for a while, after all, even after Belkar'd done a runner."

"We have not had intimate relations," he said a bit insistently, but he realized that dodging the issue would not extricate him from the situation any time soon. "We did kiss," he confessed, maintaining his calm.

Haley groaned. "Gods, I was afraid of that. I don't suppose you know V has a mate?"

"I had deduced as much from certain dialogue I overheard between Vaarsuvius and Mr. Bitterleaf. It appears to be a sore topic. However, the kiss was not intentional, and it is not an event likely to ever be repeated."

Haley looked put out. "I know something's been up with V. But, V's been so _quiet_ since we split up. We hardly ever hang out anymore. Though, I guess it's partially my fault. I mean, I've been so busy with Elan since we reunited." The rogue sighed. "I just wanted everything to get back to normal, but gods forbid that happens." A pink tint came across her fair skin, as she realized she'd been venting to a near stranger. "C'mon," she said a little harsher than was quite necessary. "We've got to get you some actual adventuring supplies."

At the Adventurer's Supply Outlet, Haley struggled to convince Spock that he really did need 50 feet of rope instead of writing supplies, and a good lamp wasn't quite as vital as it sounded. She was a little surprised when he reached for a quarterstaff of his own free will, and even more so when he seemed to actually know what to do with it. She knew it probably had more to do with her being a Nasty Suspicious Person and less with him being… whatever he was, but that didn't change the fact that she didn't trust him. And she certainly didn't trust Vaarsuvius to make good decisions, especially if the elf was stressed, or lonely.

They met up with Vaarsuvius soon afterwards, at what passed for a library in the small town. It was more of a tent than anything else, with rows of suspiciously battered spell books, all watched over by a librarian that looked more like a mercenary than a scholar. The elf did not seem to have been perturbed by the state of it, however; there was a massive pile of books beside Vaarsuvius, most of them with bookmarks sticking out the top.

"Miss Starshine, Mr. Spock," the elf said, uncommonly cheerful sounding. "I have taken the liberty of selecting certain books you may wish to copy spells from. I fear I will not be able to help you much with conjurations, so these will be a valuable resource indeed. I hope you have not purchased too many other things already; the gentleman in charge" – a thin hand gestured at the 'librarian,' who grunted – "would like 200 gp per page that you copy."

After the two wizards had finished being scammed out of their money (and Haley had taken back what she considered a fair portion of it), they reconvened with the rest of the party at a small inn, which, like every inn they had encountered, served only badly-spelled 'stoo' for supper. No one seemed to care for the spicy dish much, as everyone picked at their meals. Vaarsuvius, lecturing grandly about the various benefits of spells the elf had only passing familiarity, provided the only sound. Haley watched glumly as Spock began to participate in the discussion as well. It looked as if Vaarsuvius really did like him. It wasn't really any of her business, but she would hate to see her friend get hurt on a rebound, especially with some shady elf-dude. Did he really expect them to believe he was from space?

As they headed up to their rooms, Haley realized with a bit of surprise, that the elf and the Vulcan would probably end up sharing a room. She and Elan would want their own, it would be tricky to fit five in one room, and there was no sense in going four and one when you could do three and two. It would make more sense that way, and it was unlikely either of them would do anything, but it still worried Haley. And once again, she would be picking her boyfriend over her best friend. Perhaps that was why she grabbed Vaarsuvius' elbow, and told Roy the two of them would share a room; Elan could sleep with the other guys. Vaarsuvius looked startled, as did Roy, but he shrugged it off, mentally redoing the room arrangements.

"Hey, V?" asked Haley, once they were in the relative privacy of a separate room, "Can we talk about stuff?"

"About what? I do not recall there being any topics in such drastic need of debate," Vaarsuvius said sarcastically, suddenly seeming on edge.

"What happened with you? I mean, you were all dark and creepy, and then you came back all beat up, and your robe was a different color, and Durkon said you'd been acting oddly even before that. He said you were really stressed out about finding us. And you've been so damn quiet ever since you got back. And you and Belkar had some sort of fight down in the tomb, which apparently relates to your mate somehow, and… and I'm sick of not knowing what's going on, V. I mean, do you think I'm some kind of idiot just because I don't have an intelligence score in the twenties? You're my _friend_, V, and I'm smart enough to know something's going on."

"I would prefer not to discuss this. Not with you, and not with anyone else."

"Yeah, 'cuz that's going to do so much good." The sarcasm in the rogue's voice was almost tangible. "At least tell me about your mate. I thought you and Kyrie were really close?"

"Inkyrius and I _were_ close, yes. It would certainly be inaccurate to say that is still the current state of affairs, I fear." Vaarsuvius sighed heavily. "I believe that is all I am willing to say on the matter, Miss Starshine. I apologize for any unhappiness you may experience because of this decision, but I will not answer any further queries of yours on the matter." The elf sat upon one of the beds, and fell into a trance immediately. Haley knew Vaarsuvius wouldn't wake up for another four hours, and would be nigh-impossible to rouse beforehand. She sighed, and began to get ready for bed. Flopping under the covers, she watched the elf for a bit, brow wrinkling as memories danced across the mind, restless even in rest. Haley rolled over with a flop, pulling the blanket up to her chin.


	6. Interlude: Captain's Log

_Captain's Log, Stardate 2259.25_

_It's been a couple of days since the accident with the transporter, and there's no word from Spock. Mr. Scott says the transporter will be fully operational soon, but as Spock is completely off our sensors, we have no way of picking him up. To some extent, I feel guilty for what happened to him. Had I insisted more firmly on accompanying him, we would probably have been stranded together._

---

"See, what I don't understand, Jim, is why you seem to have promoted me to First Officer. Don't you have anyone else you can go to for advice? I've got real patients to take care of."

"Guess you're just the best, then. It's just, I don't know what to do. If something really has happened to him -"

_Crackle_. "Captain, we're receiving a signal from Mr. Spock's communicator. It's not very clear, but we might be able to locate him."

"That's great, Uhura? Can you get through to him or something?"

"Nope, it's just static." There was a slightly icy pause. "And it's Lieutenant Uhura, if you please." Another pause. "_Captain_."

"Well, it's better than nothing, Lieutenant. See if you can strengthen the signal any."

"I was doing that already, actually," she snapped back, and closed the connection. Kirk sighed.

"Cheer up, Jim. Looks like the situation's halfway resolved already. Once the transporters are back online, we'll have everything resolved in a jiffy, and it'll put Uhura in a better mood, too."

"I suppose... But I'm not even sure what all this damn barrier does. It completely screwed up the transporters the first time, what if it does it again?" He sighed again. "Spock's supposed to be the one who knows these kinds of things."


	7. Chapter 7: The Eye of the Storm

_First Officer's Log, Stardate est. 2259.25  
We have left the town and once again journeyed out into the desert, as the Order continues upon their quest. I am not exactly sure of the nature of their goals, though both Ms. Starshine and Mr. Greenhilt have suggested that it is something of an extremely delicate nature, and seem to have forbidden Mr. Elan from elaborating, though he assures me that they are of noble intent. I have remained dedicated to my studies, and reached the second level of spells, many of which are exceedingly useful; it is unfortunate that they will most likely not operate upon return to my own world. _

_There appear to be some difficulties between Ms. Starshine and Vaarsuvius that I have noted of late, which I fear may stem from the recent discussion which I had with Ms. Starshine. What is more, Ms. Starshine seems to have convinced the others that I may possibly form some sort of threat to them. I fear this will lead to a decrease in efficiency. It is an excellent example of how an overabundance of emotion can have severely negative effects, and why one should therefore endeavor to maintain better control of oneself._

Haley and Vaarsuvius had not been getting along well. They were still talking to each other, but their discussion tended towards terseness. Haley seemed constantly stressed, and Vaarsuvius had become moody. Roy found the whole thing frustrating and tiresome, but there was very little he could do about it, except try to keep Belkar away from the pair of them and hope that they got over it before it became an issue in combat.

This was not to be the case. They had barely left civilization when they encountered a rather obvious plot hook: a tribe of desert wanderers who called themselves the Raml Sa'b. Apparently, they had lost several tribe members in the desert, only one of whom had returned. Abdul, a spice merchant, was available for them to talk to, but the rest of the tribe members had little hope that the Order would be able to get anything sensible out of them. Roy sighed when they finished explaining their issues to him; now was really not a good time for them to lose focus. He gathered the rest of the Order for a party meeting. "What do you say, guys?"

Vaarsuvius, as was common, was the first to speak up. "I do not feel that it would be in our best interests to take time away from our current goal merely to offer assistance with an issue these people could easily avoid themselves by simply not visiting the area to which they have lost so many tribe members."

"That's… not really the point, V."

"The fact of the matter is that we are currently engaged in a mission far more vital to the fate of this planet – nay, this very universe – than the slight issues experienced by a band of nomadic desert dwellers. Would we not be doing them a greater service by preventing the destruction of not only their own small tribe, but that of the entire world?"

"I think we should help people!" interjected Elan.

"Yes, but is not that our goal overall, to offer aid to people? A far larger conglomerate of people, in fact? Should we not focus on the greater good in this issue, instead of allowing ourselves to be distracted by the trivial dealings we are faced with herein?"

"Ah dunno, V. Dinnae ye think 'tis a wee bit much for ye ta decide wha's the greater good here? Ah think it'd be wisest ta pray ta Thor over this matter."

"Seeing as how your deity is one generally associated with stratospheric altercations and drunken carousing, I fail to see how he would have any great expertise on the subject. Perhaps if one wished to consult him on topics such as the intoxicated casting of _Weather_ _Control_ he would be happy to oblige, but I doubt he would be inclined to indulge in a lengthy debate on man's morality and the nature of the greater good."

"Alright, that's enough of that," Roy said quickly, not wanting the meeting to devolve into a theological argument. "Haley? What's your opinion?"

"I think it's worth a look," Haley replied, to Roy's surprise. "Isn't Girard supposed to be some sort of cross-class illusionist ranger thing? It could be some kind of lead." She shot Vaarsuvius a look. "Besides, it's not like we get to decide who's more important. And," she added, knowing it would get Belkar on her side, "even if it isn't related to Girard, at least we'll get some extra experience points."

"Good point Haley. If that's a lead, it's definitely is worth checking out." Roy tried to give Vaarsuvius a friendly slap on the back, but the elf side-stepped him deftly. "Alright, gang, let's see if we can get anything out of this Abdul guy."

It did not seem likely. Abdul, the tribe's shaman explained, had wandered back to them in a daze, collapsing immediately. He had not roused since, but occasionally would mumble or moan in his sleep. After a few minutes, it seemed unlikely that he would say anything decipherable, and rather lucky if he said anything at all.

"If you would excuse me," said Spock, who had been watching the affair dispassionately, "perhaps I may offer some aid in that matter?"

"Yeah?" responded Roy, a little warily.

"I could perform a Vulcan mind meld upon him. This might enable us to communicate with more readily, especially if he is in a dream state."

"Alright, it's worth a shot. It's not going to hurt him or anything, is it?"

"I can assure you the process is perfectly harmless." He had started already, carefully feeling the man's face for the necessary pressure points. Vaarsuvius felt oddly envious. There was a slight stirring in the man's face, though he did not speak. Spock nodded to Roy, who shrugged a bit.

"Um… what can you tell us about what happened?"

"A mirage…" murmured the man, as if he was talking in his sleep. "Soldiers in mirror armor… They attacked us…"

"Is that it?"

"No… there was a cyclone… Inside was…" He started violently, thrashing about, still without seeming to wake. "I didn't mean to!" he cried. "It was a mistake, I swear! Please, no, I didn't mean to hurt her!"

"I believe that is enough," Spock said calmly. He moved his hands slightly, and the man's shouts ceased, as he collapsed back on the bed, still murmuring to himself. The rest of the group looked slightly uneasy.

"Well, it sounds like it could be Girard…" said Roy at last. "It'd take pretty powerful magic, and it sounds like it's a stationary effect. The whole mirage thing sounds like something an illusionist would do, right?"

"Simply because it is a strange occurrence which takes place in the same desert as the gate does not necessarily preclude it from being some other occurrence. We cannot chase down every legend in this entire area," said Vaarsuvius testily.

"Look, V, it's our best lead. We're investigating this whether you want to or not."

"I am sure that you will, Sir Greenhilt, and I shall accompany you without further complaint. Nevertheless, let the record show that I am not in favor of this decision, and I shall not take any responsibility for what results may come of this."

Roy rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Alright, team, I'll get the general coordinates, and then we're heading out."

As they approached the region where the cyclone was supposed to be found, there was little sign of a recent conflict. The only sign of life at all was a slight shimmering Haley spotted on the horizon. It seemed to be an ordinary mirage at first, but as they watched, it seemed to grow closer. It _was_ growing closer, and as it approached, they realized it was no mere illusion but a swarm of soldiers, all wearing the same shiny, reflective armor.

Vaarsuvius struck first with a Fireball spell, but nothing happened; further experimentation suggested that they were immune to spells altogether. When Haley shot one with an arrow, however, the single bolt was enough to shatter the armor. It fell apart, revealing that they contained nothing more than an odiferous cloud of black smoke.

It was at this point that the swarm was close enough to become a melee threat. They were well armed, but frail, falling apart with a single blow. The rest of the Order, Spock included, formed a ring around Vaarsuvius, who was rendered ineffective by their immunity to magic. The elf growled crossly, but there was little that could be done.

"This is crap," muttered Belkar after a while, pulling a dagger from one as he shoved the other dagger into another soldier. "We keep on having to kill the damn things, but they're too weak to give any XP."

"They are a" – _thwack_ – "fascinating construction," – _thwack_ – "I wonder" – _thwack_ – "what methods are used" – _thwack_ – "to create them." _Thwack_. Vaarsuvius was impressed by Spock's skill with his quarterstaff. There was quite a pile of broken armor building at his feet. In fact, there was quite a pile of broken armor everywhere. The bright desert sun flashing off of it and the noxious scent of the smoke was giving Vaarsuvius, and likely the rest of the party, a headache. It seemed to swirl overhead, getting thicker and thicker, as if it were making some sort of pattern in the sky

The swarm was finally slowing in pace a bit, allowing Vaarsuvius' eyes to wander from the battle to the sky above. The cloud _was_ swirling, the elf decided. The smoke was drawing tighter, moving closer together, turning from random eddies into a familiar conic shape. A cyclone was forming. Great Elven gods, it was the cyclone. The rest of the party had noticed it too, only the random slash, stab, or whack punctuating the growing silence. The sky darkened, as the mysterious smoke seemed to suck the light from the sky. Vaarsuvius could see shapes moving in it, indistinct but familiar. The magic it exuded was strong, most likely Epic, but from this distance there was too much of a penalty to the necessary Knowledge (Arcane) check. There was only one way to discover what the spell was – to get closer.

"_Overland Flight_!"

"NO, _V_! DON'T BE A _IDIOT_!" shouted Haley, but the elf was either out of earshot or purposefully ignoring her. The rest of the group, grounded by necessity, were unable to do anything but watch as the red and purple figure that was their friend drew closer and closer to the inky tornado.

The images were sharper as Vaarsuvius flew in, more detailed, harder to look away from… "The spell must be centered around a specific location," the elf said aloud, though there was no one else to hear. "Perhaps if I draw closer to the eye of the storm…" And that was when Vaarsuvius failed a Will save.

With a single cry, the shape in the sky started to fall. Spock was the one who responded in time, managing to catch Vaarsuvius just in the nick of time. The elf's body was limp and worryingly light. "Crap," muttered Roy to himself. "Crap! Okay guys, retreat, retreat!" The Order began to run, leaving the battle behind for the sake of their fallen teammate.

After they were gone, the armor began to melt in the sun.


End file.
